


Black Lung Heartache

by alphvjensen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Prostitute Dean, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:31:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphvjensen/pseuds/alphvjensen
Summary: "He stood there against the side of the bar, in the shadows for a moment longer, trying to disassociate himself from what he was about to become, what he was about to do.The kid in the shadows, shoulders curved inward in an attempt to make himself seem smaller, eye cast down, that was the Dean who had a little brother sleeping soundlessly back in their small motel room. He had a little brother who was curled up into a tight ball underneath a threadbare blanket desperately trying to keep warm because the motel room had no heat. That Dean had a sixteen year old brother who was starving even though he said he wasn’t hungry when Dean offered to give him a portion of his own meal. It was because of that young boy, because of Sammy that Dean was here now, ready to pretend to be someone he wasn’t and be whatever somebody else wanted."





	Black Lung Heartache

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marveljunkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marveljunkie/gifts).



> a huge huge huge shoutout to [HighonMarvel](https://highonmarvel.tumblr.com)who was super awesome and betaed this fic to the awesomeness that it is now. thank you so so much!!

The light from the old neon sign flickered above him, casting everything in a sickly red hue. Even from where he stood outside from the car, he could hear the music thrumming from inside.

The leather jacket that Dad had given him to borrow when it the temperature dropped did little to keep the cold from seeping deep within his bones, and He knew that when he slipped into the small dive bar  it wasn’t going to get any warmer.

A couple guys passed him, drunk and stumbling as they left the bar, completely oblivious to the boy in the shadows. However, Dean knew that the moment he pulled himself to his full height and plastered on that cocksure grin, everyone would notice him. He couldn’t not draw attention to himself.  He seemed to have his own magnetic pull and everyone wanted to have a taste of the boy.

He stood there against the side of the bar, in the shadows for a moment longer, trying to disassociate himself from what he was about to become, what he was about to do.

The kid in the shadows, shoulders curved inward in an attempt to make himself seem smaller, eye cast down, that was the Dean who had a little brother sleeping soundlessly back in their small motel room. He had a little brother who was curled up into a tight ball underneath a threadbare blanket desperately trying to keep warm because the motel room had no heat. That Dean had a sixteen year old brother who was starving even though he said he wasn’t hungry when Dean offered to give him a portion of his own meal. It was because of that young boy, because of Sammy that Dean was here now, ready to pretend to be someone he wasn’t and be whatever somebody else wanted.

He needed to change to  the Dean who had no one but himself. He needed to put on the version of himself who had no qualms  and simply did seduced strangers  because he wanted to, not because he was broke with no money and it was the easiest way to make some cash. He needed to be the Dean that others would call pretty when he cried and used him like their own personal rag doll.

Another deep breath, an exhale, a puff of white air and then Dean popped the collar of his jacket, squaring his shoulders in a way that made him feel even more vulnerable, and walked straight into the bar.

As soon as he stepped foot into the bar, he could feel the eyes on him. Hungry and sinful eyes that swept across his entire being and made his skin crawl. He knew what these people had in mind,  what they already planned to do with his body. They were already imagining the way that Dean would look stripped bare, his mouth wide open as he swallowed down one guy as another took him from behind.

He pushed those thoughts away, the kind of thoughts that would make Dean with the younger brother run from the bar and he smirked towards the guy who was leaning on a pool cue, watching as Dean made his way towards the bar. Dean started a mental countdown of how long it would take for the guy to walk up to him and proposition him.

The bartender hardly blinked when Dean set down his fake ID and asked for a beer. He wanted something stronger, at the very least it would be easier for him to loosen up if there was something stronger racing through his veins, but he couldn’t afford to loose focus. It was dangerous for him to get drunk before. Dean had already experienced first hand what would happen if the guy caught wind of the fact that he was drunk out of his mind.

He had to lie to Sam when he went back to the motel about the shiner that he now wore, saying that he got into a fight with some guy over a game of pool.

When he had enough money to put food in Sam’s stomach, then he would get something stronger. But only when Sam wasn’t starving anymore.

The bartender took one look at Dean, at his bright green eyes and the freckles that stood out in the low lighting and chuckled to himself, turning to grab the bottle of beer. Dean didn’t miss the way that the bartender called him “jailbait” as he walked away.

Once, that name used to get Dean’s blood boiling, before he found out how much he could use the word to his advantage. Needless to say, the moment he realized that he could take it as a compliment rather than an insult, he stopped worrying how he was going to get more money. It simply became a matter of when he wanted to go out.

He drank about half his beer before  he finally felt that dreaded hand settle on the small of his back and felt someone else next to him.

The bartender looked the other way.

If anything happened to the boy, he would not become a witness in a special victims case.

Dean set down the bottle, forcing a small smile on his face as he turned around on the barstool to face the man that he knew would take him out back the moment he walked into the place. The guy returned the smile as he looked Dean up and down.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” The guy asked, and Dean wanted to roll his eyes. He couldn’t count the number of times he’s heard that cliche line.

But instead of rolling his eyes, he turned up the charm. The quicker that he got this over with, the quicker he could get back to Sammy.

“Well, I was hoping that I would find someone like you.” Dean replied, mentally cringing at the way the words sounded coming out of his mouth. He sounded desperate but it seemed to be just the thing that the guy wanted to hear.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dean repeated, moving closer to the guy. “So, what do yah say we skip the introductions and get out of here? We get you what you want and get me what I need.” Dean whispered against the shell of his ear.

The guy didn’t seem to object. Dean stood up and the guy still had his hand placed on Dean’s back as the guy lead Dean back outside and around the back of the bar to the dimly lit alley. The only light that shone through was from the single street light around the corner. It smelled of trash and piss and vomit and Dean was not looking forward to potentially having to get down on his knees in the mess.

However, the guy shoved Dean up against the wall, pressing his chest to Dean’s back and pinned him there. He barely managed to mask the panic that  started to rise at the inability to move, to escape if he needed too.

“How much?” The guy grunted, his hands gripping Dean’s waist, his hot breath fanning out across Dean’s face. Dean could feel the scratchy hair from the guy’s beard as he stayed at close to Dean as he could.

“One-thirty and I’ll let ya fuck me bare.”

There was a long moment of silence and Dean was starting to worry that he had turned the guy off by the price that he was offering, that it was too much but then the guy took a small step back, pulling out his wallet.

“You’re clean, right?” The guy asked as he pulled out the bills.

“Yep. Get tested every week.”

Then the bills were shoved into Dean’s hand and he barely had time to put them in his pocket before the guy was yanking down Dean’s jeans. The guy groaned, loud and feral when he felt that Dean wasn’t wearing anything underneath them.

“Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?” The guy said through clenched teeth as he reached around Dean’s body and wrapped his hand around his half hard dick. Dean had trained his body to react this was now, made the guy who was fucking him feel more competent.

Dean could still remember the time, very early on when he was still new at this, he didn’t get hard. The guy that bought him for the hour had gotten pissed at Dean for it. He called Dean a broken little whore who had daddy issues and couldn’t do his job correctly. The guy fucked him hard, pinning him to the ground and when he had gotten his fill out of Dean, he proceeded to beat the shit out of him, leaving him half naked, bruised and bloody in some alley.

If it hadn’t been for some good, pure soul walking past at the right moment and heard his pathetic whimpering, he probably would have died in that alley.

In no hurry to experience a repeat performance, Dean trained his body to react the way the way that the guys who fucked him wanted his body to react. There was nothing quite like using a tight little body for your own pleasure, having total and complete control over whether or not they find their own release.

“There’s a bottle of lube in my jacket pocket.” Dean said, hoping that the guy would take the hint, but then again it wouldn’t be the first time that someone fucked him unprepped.

“God, you really are a dirty little slut.” The guy groaned, reaching into Dean’s jacket and pulled out the little bottle. “So fucking eager to get stuffed full of my cock.”

The sound of the bottle opening could hardly be heard over the traffic from the highway just on the other side of the bar.

It wasn’t a lot of prep, not that Dean expected there to be. The guy was quick and he was eager. He only stretched Dean open with a couple of fingers for a few seconds before he coated his cock. The entire time, Dean babbled  filth, saying how he wants it so badly, that he needs it. He said things the guy wanted to hear, and the guy ate it up. He listened to every word that Dean said and swallowed it down.

Dean barely grunted when the guy pushed into him but the guy moaned, loud and obscene when he bottomed out. When he pulled out, just a little and pushed back in, Dean moaned, making the expected noises.  

“So fucking tight.” The guy muttered and Dean pushed back against him, acting as if he wanted more.

The guy seemed more interested in his own pleasure than giving Dean any. His thrust were swallow and quick, all in an effort to chase a quick orgasm so that he could back inside and rejoin the group of guys he came in with. He placed a hand in the middle of Dean’s back and pushed Dean hard against the wall as he slammed into Dean.

It was quick and Dean wasn’t complaining about that. The guy finished in minutes then he was gone. Just like that, he was there and then he just left. He left Dean in the alleyway with nothing than a handful of crumpled bills and a half-hearted, barely muttered thanks.

Dean rested his head against the brick wall, his hand wrapped around his dick as he tried to finish the job that the guy didn’t bother doing himself.

He flinched when he felt fingertips settling on his hips, ready  to turn around and punch the guy who put his hands on him. He was done for the night.

“Shh…” The new guy whispered against his neck. “Relax, please. I’m not going to hurt you. I…” The guy trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper but Dean knew what he was asking for. It was what everyone asked for.

“Listen man, as much as I would love for you to fuck me, I’ve gotta…”

“No!” The guy suddenly exclaimed, his grip tightening around Dean even tighter and that panic swelled inside Dean again. “That’s not… I don’t want to fuck you. I want…” his hand moved from Dean’s hip and hovered over Dean’s hand that was pressed up against the wall. “I just wanna…”

Once again he trailed off like he couldn’t finish his thought, wouldn’t dare finish what he was thinking, like what he was going to ask for was something he shouldn’t ask for. Dean had experience with these guys. The kind of guy who had a wife and child back at home, unhappy with his life and wanting something that he never knew he wanted. Something he had to pay for from back alley whores.

Then the guy shoved a handful of bills into Dean’s other hand. “Please.” He whispered. “I just wanna… wanna take care of you.”

The guy waited and waited for Dean’s response, his permission and for the first time in Dean’s life, he wasn’t sure what to say. It was easy for him to get on his knees and do whatever someone wants him to do. It was easy for him to turn around, brace his hands up against the wall and let some guy use his body for a few minutes before they left. It was mindless work. He didn’t have to do anything, say anything per se. At least he didn’t have to say anything of value. It was always done and over with before Dean really had to think about he was doing.

So Dean was at a completely loss for words and he wasn’t sure why this guy sounded so reserved when he was willing to pay for this. The guy sounded scared that Dean was going to tell him no, that he couldn’t touch Dean the way he wanted. Like Dean was going to turn him away after he gave him the money.

“Please…” The guy was begging, fucking begging and if Dean was completely honest, he was starting to feel weak in the knees just by the sound of his voice. The pleading, the absolute desperation. It was something that Dean was used to hearing from his own mouth, not from the guy paying him. “If you don’t want me too, I’ll… I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone. You can keep the money. I won’t…”

“Just shut up, will you?” Dean finally said once he was able to find his voice, a little more forcefully than he intended but he needed the guy to quiet down, stop begging before Dean’s knees gave out. “You paid for it. I’ll do anything you want me to do.” Dean recomposed himself, turning up the charm, trying to put on the facade of nonchalance, that he was wanting this and he was desperate for it. “I’ll be anyone you want me to be, baby.”

“Stop. No. Don’t… don’t do that. You don’t have to talk to me like that. Just be… be yourself.” The guy, kid really, begged.

Dean swallowed thickly as he barely nodded his head. He hated the way that his voice cracked when he finally said okay.

There was another pause of silence as Dean waited to be told what to do but there was no command. Dean swallowed again, clearing the lump that was constantly forming in his throat, forcing a smirk on his lips as he prepared himself to turn around and face the man that was behind him. However, the moment that he started to shift, the guy placed his hand in the middle of Dean’s back, keeping Dean frozen where he was. It wasn’t a forceful touch, the guy’s fingertips were barely touching him but it was enough for Dean to get the message.

“Just… just stay right there. Like that. I don’t want you to… look at me.” The guy muttered.

“Alright, that’s cool, buddy, but you know, you’ve gotta tell me what you want me to do.Like I said,  I’m pretty much willing to do anything.”

The guy took a deep breath and Dean could feel it on the back of his neck and for the first time, it didn’t make his skin crawl. It didn’t make him feel like he needed to take about twelve showers to get the stench of alcohol and cigarettes and grimy fingers from his body. The voice, the feeling of his breath, it felt familiar.

“Just… you don’t have to do anything. Just stand there. Well, I mean, you can move if you want to. I don’t want you to think that you have to be still. I want you to tell me what you want me to do and like, you don’t have to lie to me, pretend to like something because you think I like it.” The kid was rambling, stuttering through his words and Dean couldn’t help but wonder if this was the first time that the kid ever paid for sex. Which in all honesty, it would explain so much. It would explain why he sounded so nervous and why  he didn’t know how to just take what he wanted. For a fleeting moment, the thought crossed his mind that the reason the kid was so flustered was because of him, because of Dean himself. Like the kid had been dreaming of him forever and now that he finally had him, he didn’t know what to do.

Another moment passed and Dean was very seriously considering giving the guy his money back because Dean needed to get back to the motel room. He needed to get at least a couple hours of sleep when all of the sudden, the guy wrapped his hand around his dick that had softened during their exchange but at the touch it suddenly started to show interest.

The guy was barely touching him but Dean could tell that he had huge hands. Dean figured that the guy was big by the way that he was nearly towering over Dean but still, it shook Dean to the core because not only was his dick showing interest in the touch, his entire body, heart and mind was showing interest in it too.

Slowly, almost tentatively, the guy closed his fist a little tighter, running it up Dean’s cock. Dean could feel the callouses that laced the palm of his hand, only adding to the sensation and when the guy ran his thumb over the tip of his cock, Dean jumped forward, his whole body feeling as if it was a live wire.

“Fuck.” Dean muttered under his breath, unable to stop himself and this time he wasn’t saying it because he knew that the guy wanted to hear it. The word slipped out and it scared him because he meant it.

Dean wasn’t going to lie and say that sex never felt good whenever someone was paying him for it. Sure, there were certainly times when it was less satisfying than others and yeah, a few of the johns got rough and left too many bruises but Dean was used to bruises. It was in his job description to get used to bruises. 

He also wasn’t going to deny the fact that there were times when he really wasn’t in the mood but someone offered to pay for it and Dean was never one to give up easy cash.

However, never before has it ever felt like this. There had yet to be a john that actually treated him like a human being as opposed to some hole that they can use.

The guy was, for lack of a better word, worshipping what little skin he could reach with his hands. His mouth was ghosting along the back of Dean’s neck. The guy’s hair was long and occasionally it would brush up against his neck which sent chills down Dean’s spine, the good kind of chills.

What Dean did on the side, what his side job was, that was nothing more than him getting fucked. It wasn’t even sex. It was just his mouth or his ass getting used in whatever way the john wanted to use it and that was it. When Dean took some chick home from the bar because he wasn’t in the mood for getting used and just wanted to let off some steam, that was sex. There was no emotional connection but the girl wasn’t paying for it either. It was a mutual contract that they would both take care of each other’s needs and that was it.

_ This _ . What this guy was doing to him, with just his hands and mouth at the base of his neck, it was edging so close to the line past sex and straight into, if he dared to say the words, making love.

And that thought had his heart hammering through his chest because he didn’t even know the guy’s name. He was just some person with gigantic hands and a voice that was going to haunt him. Except this guy was treating Dean like he had known him his entire life, touched every part of him like he had memorized it with his eyes first before he was able to memorize it with his hands.

Dean was shaking and the guy was holding him up.

“Holy hell.” Dean muttered, dropping his head to watch the way that the guy’s hand moved up and down his cock. He was touching places on him that Dean didn’t even realize were sensitive to the touch.

The guy took the advantage of more skin being exposed and sucked at the spot where Dean’s neck met his spine. Somewhere, back in the conscious part of Dean’s mind, he knew that it was best if the guy didn’t leave marks because the way that he was sucking on his skin, there was going to be one hell of a spot left behind but Dean couldn’t find it in him to actually form the words.

With this guy, Dean wanted to be marked by him. Just so that when he woke in the morning the evidence that he was real, that he was actually there and that Dean didn’t imagine him as some fever dream.

The guy didn’t say much, rather he just slowly took Dean apart. Every now and then he would mutter some sort of encouragement in Dean’s ear, saying that it was okay, that he could come, that the guy wanted him too.

It didn’t take long. The kid knew what he was doing with his hand, his fingers and Dean was nothing more than a bundle of nerves shaking up against him.

Dean didn’t scream per se when he came, it was more like a yelp that sucked all the air out of his lungs and left him breathless afterwards.

With suddenly unsteady hands, the kid tucked Dean backs into his jeans and pulled them back up his waist.

“I’m sorry.” The kid whispered into Dean’s hair before he pulled away from Dean, taking the warmth and familiarity of his body with him and disappeared into the night.

Blood was rushing past Dean’s ears, his mind racing through a million different things while at the same time he couldn’t put together a single thought. He was still shaking, his legs so close to just giving out and dropping him down to the ground. Maybe the pain from having his knees crack against the pavement would feel more real than what had just happened.

It took a while, longer than what Dean wanted to admit to compose himself and walk out of that alley like he hadn’t just completely fallen apart underneath a pair of hands and mouth.

He had half the mind to go back into the bar and order a good, strong, stiff drink. Something that would shake some sense back into his already shaken body except he needed to go back to the motel room.

Sam was under the covers, blankets pulled up over his shoulders, eyes closed and if Dean didn’t know any better, he would have assumed that Sam was asleep. Except he knew otherwise. He knew that Sam wasn’t asleep and that he hadn’t been for a while. Hadn’t even been in bed.

Dean dropped the money that Sam had shoved into his hand onto Sam’s pillow as he passed by to go take a shower. “You didn’t have to pay me, Sam. You didn’t even come. ”

He didn’t wait to see Sam get up from the bed and he didn’t jump when he felt those hands land on his body for the second time that night.


End file.
